RECOLLECTIONS OF LAPLACE, BIOT, AND HUMBOLDT.
My First Visit to Paris — Anecdote of the fifty-two Eggs — Mistake
about Woodhouse — Fourier — Biot — Drawings of the Difference Engine
— Strong characteristic of Humboldt’s mind — English Clergyman at
Paris — Great Meeting of Philosophers at Berlin, 1828 — Introduces the
Author to Magnus and Derichlet — Puts the Englishman upon the Dining
Committee — Conversation in the Linden Walk — Humboldt’s study —
Various members of the family of Buonaparte — Lucien and his Children
— Louis, the King of Holland — Joseph, the King of Spain — His second
Daughter married to a Son of Louis — Their taste — Drawings and
Lithographs — Her Death.
My first visit to Paris was made in company with my friend John
Herschel. On reaching Abbeville, we wanted breakfast, and I undertook
to order it. Each of us usually required a couple of eggs. I preferred
having mine moderately boiled, but my friend required his to be boiled
quite hard. Having explained this matter to the waiter, I concluded
by instructing him that each of us required two eggs thus cooked,
concluding my order with the words, “pour chacun deux.”
The garçon ran along the passage half way towards the kitchen, and then
called out in his loudest tone—
“Il faut faire bouillir cinquante-deux œufs pour Messieurs les
Anglais.” I burst into such a fit of uncontrollable laughter at this
absurd misunderstanding of _chacun deux_, for _cinquante-deux_, that it
was some time before I could explain it to Herschel, and but for his
running into the kitchen to {196} countermand it, the half hundred of
eggs would have assuredly been simmering over the fire.
A few days after our arrival in Paris, we dined with Laplace, where we
met a large party, most of whom were members of the Institut. The story
had already arrived at at Paris, having rapidly passed through several
editions.
〈FIFTY-TWO EGGS.〉
To my great amusement, one of the party told the company that, a few
days before, two young Englishman being at Abbeville, had ordered
fifty-two eggs to be boiled for their breakfast, and that they ate up
every one of them, as well as a large pie which was put before them.
My next neighbour at dinner asked me if I thought it probable. I
replied, that there was no absurdity a young Englishman would not
occasionally commit.
One morning Herschel and I called on Laplace, who spoke to us of
various English works on mathematical subjects. Amongst others, he
mentioned with approbation, “Un ouvrage de vous deux.” We were both
quite at a loss to know to what work he referred. Herschel and I had
not written any joint work, although we had together translated the
work of Lacroix. The volume of the “Memoirs of the Analytical Society,”
though really our joint production, was not known to be such, and it
was also clear that Laplace did not refer to that work. Perceiving
that we did not recognise the name of the author to whom he referred,
Laplace varied the pronunciation by calling him _vous deux_; the first
word being pronounced as the French word “vous,” and the second as the
English word “deuce.”
Upon further explanation, it turned out that Laplace meant to speak of
a work published by Woodhouse, whose name is in the pronunciation of
the French so very like _vous deux_. {197}
〈FOURIER AND BIOT.〉
Poisson, Fourier, and Biot were amongst my earliest friends in Paris.
Fourier, then Secretary of the Institute, had accompanied the first
Napoleon in his expedition to Egypt. His profound acquaintance with
analysis remains recorded in his works. His unaffected and genial
manner, the vast extent of his acquirements, and his admirable taste
conspicuous even in the apartments he inhabited, were most felt by
those who were honoured by his friendship.
With M. Biot I became acquainted in early life; he was then surrounded
by a happy family. In my occasional visits to Paris I never omitted
an opportunity of paying my respects to him: when deprived of those
supports and advanced in life, he still earnestly occupied himself in
carrying out the investigations of his earlier years.
His son, M. Biot, a profound oriental scholar, who did me the honour of
translating ‘The Economy of Manufactures,’ died many years before his
father.
In one of my visits to Paris, at a period when beards had become
fashionable amongst a certain class of my countrymen, I met Biot. After
our first greeting, looking me full in the face, he said, “My dear
friend, you are the best shaved man in Europe.”
〈BIOT AND THE DIFFERENCE ENGINE.〉
At a later period I took with me to Paris the complete drawings of
Difference Engine No. 2. As soon as I had hung them up round my own
apartments to explain them to my friends I went to the College de
France, where M. Biot resided. I mentioned to him the fact, and said
that if it was a subject in which he was interested, and had leisure to
look at these drawings, I should have great pleasure in bringing them
to him, and giving him any explanation that he might desire. I told
him, however, that I was fully aware how much the time of every man who
really adds to science must be {198} occupied, and that I made this
proposal rather to satisfy my own mind that I had not neglected one
of my oldest friends than in the expectation that he had time for the
examination of this new subject.
The answer of my friend was remarkable. After thanking me in the
warmest terms for this mark of friendship, he explained to me that the
effect of age upon his own mind was to render the pursuit of any new
inquiry a matter of slow and painful effort; but that in following
out the studies of his youth he was not so much impeded. He added
that in those subjects he could still study with satisfaction, and
even make advances in them, assisted in the working out of his views
experimentally by the aid of his younger friends.
I was much gratified by this unreserved expression of the state of
the case, and I am sure those younger men who so kindly assisted the
aged philosopher will be glad to know that their assistance was duly
appreciated.
The last time during M. Biot’s life that I visited Paris I went, as
usual, to the College de France. I inquired of the servant who opened
the door after the state of M. Biot’s health, which was admitted to be
feeble. I then asked whether he was well enough to see an old friend.
Biot himself had heard the latter part of this conversation. Coming
into the passage he seized my hand and said “My dear friend, I would
see you even if I were dying.”
_Alexander Humboldt._
One of the most remarkable characteristics of Humboldt’s mind was, that
he not merely loved and pursued science for its own sake, but that he
derived pleasure from assisting with his information and advice any
other inquirer, however humble, who might need it. {199}
〈HUMBOLDT AT PARIS.〉
In one of my visits to Paris, Humboldt was sitting with me when a
friend of mine, an English clergyman, who had just arrived in Paris,
and had only two days to spare for it, called upon me to ask my
assistance about getting access to certain MSS. Putting into Humboldt’s
hand a tract lying on my table, I asked him to excuse me for a few
minutes whilst I gave what advice I could to my countryman.
My friend told me that he wanted to examine a MS., which he was
informed was in a certain library in a certain street in Paris: that he
knew nobody in the city to help him in his mission.
Humboldt having heard this statement, came over to us and said, “If you
will introduce me to your friend, I can put him in the way of seeing
the MSS. he is in search of.” He then explained that the MSS. had been
removed to another library in Paris, and proposed to give my friend
a note of introduction to the librarian, and mentioned other MSS.
and other libraries in which he would find information upon the same
subject.
Many years after, being at Vienna, I heard that Humboldt was at
Töplitz, a circumstance which induced me to visit that town. On my
arrival I found he had left it a few days before on his return to
Berlin. In the course of a few days, I followed him to that city, and
having arrived in the middle of the day, I took apartments in the
Linden Walk, and got all my travelling apparatus in order; I then
went out to call on Humboldt. Finding that he had gone to dine with
his brother William, who resided at a short distance from Berlin, I
therefore merely left my card.
The next morning at seven o’clock, before I was out of bed, I received
a very kind note from Humboldt, to ask me to breakfast with him at
nine. In a postscript he added, “What {200} are the moving molecules
of Robert Brown?” These atoms of dead matter in rapid motion, when
examined under the microscope, were then exciting great attention
amongst philosophers.
I met at breakfast several of Humboldt’s friends, with whose names and
reputation I was well acquainted.
〈GREAT MEETING OF GERMAN PHILOSOPHERS.〉
Humboldt himself expressed great pleasure that I should have visited
Berlin to attend the great meeting of German philosophers, who in a
few weeks were going to assemble in that capital. I assured him that
I was quite unaware of the intended meeting, and had directed my
steps to Berlin merely to enjoy the pleasure of his society. I soon
perceived that this meeting of philosophers on a very large scale,
supported by the King and by all the science of Germany, might itself
have a powerful influence upon the future progress of human knowledge.
Amongst my companions at the breakfast-table were Derichlet and Magnus.
In the course of the morning Humboldt mentioned to me that his own
duties required his attendance on the King every day at three o’clock,
and having also in his hands the organization of the great meeting of
philosophers, it would not be in his power to accompany me as much
as he wished in seeing the various institutions in Berlin. He said
that, under these circumstances, he had asked his two young friends,
Derichlet and Magnus, to supply his place. During many weeks of my
residence in Berlin, I felt the daily advantage of this thoughtful
kindness of Humboldt. Accompanied by one or other, and frequently by
both, of my young friends, I saw everything to the best advantage,
and derived an amount of information and instruction which under less
favourable circumstances it would have been impossible to have obtained.
The next morning, I again breakfasted with Humboldt. {201} On the
previous day I had mentioned that I was making a collection of the
signs employed in map-making. I now met Von Buch and General Ruhl, both
of whom were profoundly acquainted with that subject. I had searched in
vain for any specimen of a map shaded upon the principle of lines of
equal elevation. Von Buch the next morning gave me an engraving of a
small map upon that principle, which was, I believe, at that time the
only one existing.
After breakfast we went into Humboldt’s study to look at something he
wished to show us. In turning over his papers, which, like my own, were
lying apparently in great disorder upon the table, he picked up the
cover of a letter on which was written a number of names in different
parallel columns. “That,” he observed incidentally, “is for you.” After
he had shown us the object of our visit to his sanctum, he reverted to
the envelop which he put into my hands, explaining that he had grouped
roughly together for my use all the remarkable men then in Berlin, and
several of those who were expected.
These he had arranged in classes:—Men of science, men of letters,
sculptors, painters, and artists generally, instrument-makers, &c. This
list I found very convenient for reference.
〈THE AUTHOR PUT ON THE DINING COMMITTEE.〉
When the time of the great meeting approached, it became necessary to
prepare the arrangements for the convenience of the assembled science
of Europe. One of the first things, of course, was the important
question, how they were to dine? A committee was therefore appointed
to make experiment by dining successively at each of the three or four
hotels competing for the honour of providing a table d’hôte for the
savans.
Humboldt put me on that committee, remarking, that an Englishman always
appreciates a good dinner. The committee performed their agreeable duty
in a manner quite {202} satisfactory to themselves, and I hope, also,
to the digestions of the Naturforschers.
〈CONVERSATION IN THE LINDEN WALK.〉
During the meeting much gaiety was going on at Berlin. One evening
previous to our parties, I was walking in the Linden Walk with
Humboldt, discussing the singularities of several of our learned
acquaintance. My companion made many acute and very amusing remarks;
some of these were a little caustic, but not one was ill-natured. I
had contributed a very small and much less brilliant share to this
conversation, when the clock striking, warned us that the hour for our
visits had arrived. I never shall forget the expression of archness
which lightened up Humboldt’s countenance when shaking my hand he said,
in English, “My dear friend, I think it may be as well that we should
not speak of each other until we meet again.” We then each kept our
respective engagements, and met again at the most recherché of all, a
concert at Mendelssohn’s.
_Of the Buonaparte Family._
From my father’s house on the coast, near Teignmouth, we could, with a
telescope, see every ship which entered Torbay. When the “Bellerophon”
anchored, the news was rapidly spread that Napoleon was on board.
On hearing the rumour, I put a small telescope into my pocket, and,
mounting my horse, rode over to Torbay. A crowd of boats surrounded the
ship, then six miles distant; but, by the aid of my glass, I saw upon
the quarter-deck that extraordinary man, with many members of whose
family I subsequently became acquainted. Of those who are no more I may
without impropriety say a few words.
My first acquaintance with several branches of the family {203} of
Napoleon Buonaparte arose under the following circumstances:—
〈LUCIEN BUONAPARTE.〉
When his elder brother Lucien, to avoid the necessity of accepting a
kingdom, fled from his imperial brother, and took refuge in England,
his position was either not well understood, or, perhaps, was entirely
mistaken. Lucien seems to have been looked upon with suspicion by our
Government, and was placed in the middle of England under a species of
espionage.
Political parties then ran high, and he did not meet with those
attentions which his varied and highly-cultivated tastes, especially in
the fine arts, entitled him to receive, as a stranger in a foreign land.
A family connection of mine, residing in Worcestershire, was in the
habit of visiting Lucien Buonaparte. Thus, in my occasional visits
to my brother-in-law’s place, I became acquainted with the Prince of
Canino. In after-years, when he occasionally visited London, I had
generally the pleasure of seeing him.
In 1828 I met at Rome the eldest son of Lucien, who introduced me to
his sisters, Lady Dudley Stuart and the Princess Gabrielli.
〈LOUIS, THE KING OF HOLLAND.〉
In the same year I became acquainted, at Bologna, with the Princess
d’Ercolano, another daughter of Lucien, whom I afterwards met at
Florence, at the palace of her uncle Louis, the former king of Holland.
During a residence of several months in that city I was a frequent
guest at the family table of the Compte St. Leu. One of his sons
had married the Princess Charlotte, the second daughter of the King
of Spain, a most accomplished, excellent, and charming person. They
reminded me much of a sensible English couple, in the best class of
English society. Both had great taste in the fine {204} arts. The
prince had a workshop at the top of the palace, in which he had a
variety of tools and a lithographic printing press. Occasionally, in
the course of their morning drives, some picturesque scene, in that
beautiful country, would arrest their attention. Stopping the carriage,
they would select a favourable spot, and the princess would then make a
sketch of it.
At other times they would spend the evening, the prince in
extemporizing an imaginary scene, which he described to his wife, who,
with admirable skill, embodied upon paper the tasteful conceptions
of her husband. These sketches then passed up to the workshop of the
Prince, were transferred to stone, and in a few days lithographic
impressions descended to the drawing-room. I fortunately possess some
of these impressions, which I value highly, not only as the productions
of an amiable and most accomplished lady, but of one who did not shrink
from the severer duties of life, and died in fulfilling them.
After the melancholy loss of her husband, the Princess Charlotte
remained with her father, who resided at one period in the Regent’s
Park, where I from time to time paid my respects to them. Occasionally
I received them at my own house. One summer letters from Florence
reached them, announcing the dangerous illness of the Comte de St.
Leu. The daughter of Joseph immediately set out alone for Florence to
minister to the comfort of her uncle and father-in-law. On her return
from Italy she was attacked by cholera and died in the south of France.
{205}